


Come Back to Me (Complete Our Song)

by petyrbaealish



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Magic, Resurrection, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 08:56:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12384963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petyrbaealish/pseuds/petyrbaealish
Summary: Petyr dies protecting Sansa, and she is forced to go on the run for her own safety. She spends six months feeling lost, missing the man she loved so very much, until one day, on Halloween, she finds a mysterious candle. It promises to bring him back, but she doesn't believe in such foolish nonsense. Or does she?Based on a Halloween inspired prompt for my 400 Follower Celebration on tumblr. Prompt, by @jonarya786, is as follows: "I hope I am the first one...even if I am not and not the chosen one ;) still want to ask you if you can write petyr as ghost or demon and Sansa summoning him on Halloween night and then I want lots of Petsan and lots of love and fluff and SMUT ;)"





	Come Back to Me (Complete Our Song)

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. Sure, life wasn’t a song, _he’d_ taught her that, but she’d still thought they would both make it through all of this alive. That they would get at least some semblance of the happy ending they’d both deserved and craved for as kids. That they would write their own song.

She was wrong.

Sansa still remembered that night, how he’d died protecting her. She’d lost most of her family, either to death, or places unknown, but somehow, he’d always been there for her. And she’d fallen for him, despite her better judgement, despite the fact that before everything had gone completely to hell, she might not have given him a second look.

Initially, knowing what they’d found together, it had almost made all the pain and tragic heartbreak of her life worth it. Until a rare miscalculation cost her love his life, and sent her on the run.

Even now, she struggled to figure out just where and how and why they’d fucked up so badly. Every moment of every day she wracked her brain for the answers that wouldn’t come. As if knowing just what exactly had gone wrong would mean that she could go back and fix it. If only life were that kind.

She knew it wasn’t.

And yet she couldn’t leave it alone. She was desperate to know, desperate for the closure she hoped it would bring. Though she knew in her heart she would never get over her grief. Some hurts just ran too deep.

Sansa was alone in a seedy motel room, knees drawn up to her chest as she sat on the lumpy mattress, contemplating her next move. It had been six months. SIx months of dyeing her hair from those cheap home kits found in drug stores, of staying in one crappy motel after another, of living off of fast food and gas station fare or the occasional complimentary continental breakfast, of driving with no aim other than to keep moving, always keep moving.

Her hair was now a pale blonde reminiscent of corn silk, and it pained her to think of Petyr’s reaction should he find out she’d bleached the hair he’d loved so much. But she could hardly dye it brown anymore, not after they’d been discovered. Blonde was her only other alternative, save unnatural colors that would only draw unwanted attention.

She wished he was here, with her. He’d know what to do. How to keep her safe. How to finish what they’d started so that she no longer had to run. How to make her smile again.

Hugging her knees tighter to her chest, she sighed and closed her eyes. She was so tired of running. Of being scared. Of everything. Most of all, she was just plain tired.

And hungry too, apparently. Her stomach growled in complaint, reminding her that she hadn’t yet eaten dinner. Sighing again, Sansa reluctantly moved from the bed, snatching her purse from the nightstand on her way out the door.

As she drove through the tiny town, following the directions her phone helpfully provided, she noticed quite a lot more people out and about than was the norm. Frowning, she took a better look while she waited at a traffic light, recognition blooming when she noticed that nearly everyone frolicking about was wearing some type of costume. Of course. How could she have forgotten?

It was Halloween.

This revelation slightly cheered her up as she made her way to the nearest dollar store. Sansa smiled indulgently as she recognized some of the costumes the trick or treaters were wearing, many from popular fandoms like Star Wars or Harry Potter, and others more traditional, zombies, ghosts, witches, and the like. She’d always loved dressing up for Halloween. It was a night when anyone could be anything they wanted, and it was said that boundaries between the living and the dead were always thinnest on that day.

If only such a thing were true. Then maybe she might see Petyr again, if only for tonight.

Sansa pulled into a free space in the parking lot of the Dollar Tree and headed inside, feeling melancholy once more. If such magic did exist, to speak to the dead, oh what she wouldn’t give to bring him back. But if magic was indeed real, it was stubbornly undiscovered as of yet. And so she was shit out of luck, so to speak.

Scowling at yet another reason life was completely hopeless, she filled up a little cart with miscellaneous toiletries, snacks, bottled water, and other necessities, using this trip to stock up on all of the things that had depleted in her stores as of late. Since the motel room had a microwave and a mini fridge with freezer, she grabbed some ramen and a couple of frozen meals, enjoying the change from the mostly greasy fried fare she’d been forced to eat nearly every day. Unfortunately, while she had a fair amount of money to work with, courtesy of Petyr himself (he’d arranged for the possibility that they’d be parted long ago, just in case), she still had to be careful. She had no idea how long she’d have to be on the run, and it was better to conserve her resources, if she could. It was the smart thing to do, though she longed for better food, better accommodations, better everything, really.

It certainly wasn’t easy to tamp down her normal instincts for the finer things in life (predilections only encouraged by Petyr), that was for sure.

In a fit of holiday spirit and whimsy, Sansa also picked up a few bags of candy, including York Peppermint Patties, which had always been a favorite of Petyr’s, and Lemon Drops for herself. She also dallied around in the Halloween section for far longer than was necessary, checking out the spooky decorations, costume makeup, masks, and other paraphernalia. As it was the big day, the selection had been picked over fairly well, but she enjoyed browsing regardless.

Sansa had almost moved on to the rest of her shopping when something caught her eye. Pausing, she examined the label on the simple black candle once more, thinking she’d misread. But no, there was no mistaking it.

**To Rekindle a Love Lost to Death’s Embrace:**

“If on Halloween  
you wish to see  
the one you love returned to you,  
then take this candle home with thee.  
Make it dark,  
and soundless too,  
invite the night  
to be with you.  
Strike the match  
and light the wick,  
upon the stroke of midnight,  
make it quick.  
Say the words,  
you know them true,  
‘Oh my love,  
how I’ve missed you.  
Come back to me,  
this very night.  
My dear ‘insert name,’  
the time is right.  
We were never meant  
to part for long.  
Come back to me,  
and complete our song.’”

Frowning, she read the label again, then set the candle back on the shelf and started to leave, before halting again.

Hardly knowing why, she whirled around and snatched up the candle, the only one of its kind there on the shelf. It had no price tag, but she assumed it was a dollar, just like anything else in the store, so she popped it into the cart and finished her shopping, feeling strangely self conscious, her heart galloping in her chest.

‘This is stupid,’ she scolded herself. ‘It’s just an ordinary candle, and nothing will come of lighting it. You shouldn’t waste your money.’

Still, she didn’t put it back.

A bored looking teenager rang up her purchases, a pair of devil horns perched in her halo of curly black hair. She snapped her gun unapologetically, mostly ignoring Sansa as she worked, until she picked up the candle, brow furrowed.

“Don’t think this is part of our stock,” she said.

“What?” Sansa felt a chill run down her spine.

The girl shook her head then shrugged. “Well, I don’t remember it anyway. But then we’ve got quite a lot here. Could be I’m mistaken.” Sansa’s shoulders slumped, relaxing, then the girl added. “I did set up the Halloween section though.”

“Um.” Sansa really didn’t know what to say to that. If it wasn’t part of the store’s merchandise, then how did it get there?

The girl shrugged again, then popped the candle into a bag with the Halloween candy Sansa had decided to purchase despite her better judgement. “Whatever.”

“You didn’t ring it up,” Sansa reminded her.

The girl rolled her eyes. “No tag. And I don’t think it’s ours, anyway. If it is, it’s on me.” She finished scanning the last of the groceries then tapped her finger on the digital screen awaiting the swipe of a credit card.

Sansa shook her head. “Nah, I’m paying cash today.” She handed the girl a couple of bills and waited while the girl counted out the correct change and grabbed the freshly printed receipt, before handing both over. “Thank you,” Sansa added, tucking both into her purse.

“Don’t mention it,” the girl drawled, snapping her gum again. “And Happy Halloween.”

“Happy Halloween.”

 

* * *

 

Back in the hotel, Sansa unloaded her groceries and popped her frozen lasagna into the microwave. She set the candle on the nightstand, next to the bags of candy she’d purchased, and tried to tell herself that she was just being silly, that even if the girl had been right, and it wasn’t the store’s, it didn’t mean anything. Maybe someone was just playing a joke, leaving candles like that in random places for people to find. Or maybe the girl had been fucking with her, having noticed the label and decided that she was prime material to play a little joke.

After all, only an idiot would believe that the candle would really work.

Right?

She tried to distract herself while the lasagna cooked, turning on the tv and flipping through the channels. Many featured horror movies or Halloween themed episodes of shows both current and classic, but she skipped over them all until she found an old childhood favorite, Hocus Pocus. Now wasn’t the time for anything truly scary. She’d dealt with enough real life frightening situations, terrifying psychologically as well as rather gory, and because of that she’d lost what little taste she’d had for the horror genre. Not to mention, she was still more than a little unsettled about the candle.

Sansa ate her lasagna while the movie played, enjoying the familiar plotline and the trips down to memory lane that it inspired. It had been long enough since the passing of the majority of her family that the sting had lost its sharpness, the point dulling with time. She still mourned them, would always do so, but now her remembrances gave her more pleasure than pain. Would that that were only the same with Petyr. She sensed that his loss was a hurt that would always strike her deep within. They’d been through so much together…

She’d loved him. So much.

Still did.

Always would.

After Hocus Pocus had finished, The Addams Family started, and, knowing she’d probably not find anything better, she let it run. Partway through the film, she was hungry enough again that the temptation of the candy she’d bought earlier finally overwhelmed her. Among her stash were Sour Skittles, Assorted Hershey Bars, the York Peppermint Patties, and Snickers, and though she’d never been one to gorge herself on Halloween candy, tonight she made an exception. She needed the therapy that only chocolate and sugar could provide tonight. The Lemon Drops were kept for later, for long hours on the road, when she drank water sparingly so as not to stop more than was strictly necessary.

Monster’s Inc followed The Addams Family, which wasn’t technically a Halloween movie, but she hardly cared. It was a good movie, and provided ample distraction from the thoughts that frequently threatened to overwhelm her. Every so often, as if her gaze was pulled like a magnet to it, Sansa found herself peeking at the candle, and she was starting to regret getting the York Peppermint Patties. They just made her sad, and the mint tingling on her tongue kept stirring desire in her veins where it was not wanted tonight.

She wondered if she’d ever stop getting turned on by the taste, the scent of mint. It was getting to be a bit annoying, wanting to fuck whenever she brushed her teeth. He’d probably love her little predicament, if he knew of it. If he was watching, from the spirit world beyond. She could just see that smirk, hear the low, raspy chuckle that never failed to send a delicious shiver down her spine.

Oh gods, how she missed him.

It was ten til midnight when Sansa found herself staring not at the television screen but at that blasted candle, looking so innocent and nondescript despite the anguish it was causing her. With a groan she hauled herself off of the bed and began rooting around in her bags for the book of matches she’d picked up several motels ago, among the free offerings the room had displayed (she always took whatever was available, knowing she’d find some use for it later). After making an interminable mess, half of her belongings scattered across the bed, she found them and haphazardly shoved everything back in her bags, resolving to reorganize the contents later.

Five minutes to go.

Muttering to herself how stupid and pointless this whole thing was, Sansa switched off the tv and shut off the lights, using her phone to guide her movements while her eyes adjusted. She grabbed a York Peppermint Patty and the candle, then found her favorite picture of Petyr in the photo archives on her phone, and split the screen with the picture and a countdown to midnight. Sitting cross legged on the bed, she set the chocolate and the phone in front of her, beside the candle, and waited, heart pounding.

Two minutes to go.

Her mouth felt impossibly dry as she fumbled for the matchbook and snapped one match free. Eyes darting constantly to her phone to check the time, she reread the candle’s label several times, making sure she’d done everything she was supposed to, and memorizing the words she must say. Of course, this wasn’t going to work, but regardless she wanted to do everything perfectly.

One minute to go.

Sansa felt as if her heart might spring from her chest, so insistent was its beat. This was just for fun, she knew that, she knew nothing would come from it, and yet still she felt as though everything hinged on this moment.

Thirty seconds to go.

She took in a shaky breath and exhaled, eyes fixated on the clock.

Fifteen seconds until midnight.

Sansa struck the match, watching as the fire flared to life. She tossed the matchbook onto the bed and picked up the candle, waiting for those last few seconds to expire. For midnight.

One second to go.

She lit the candle, and spoke the words.

“Oh my love,  
how I’ve missed you.  
Come back to me,  
this very night.  
My dear Petyr,  
the time is right.  
We were never meant  
to part for long.  
Come back to me,  
and complete our song.”

The flame flickered as she spoke, the words filling her heart with hope as their meaning resounded in her mind. It was as if the incantation had been written for them. He’d told her before that life wasn’t a song, but when he’d said that she’d known he meant merely that life wasn’t all storybook romances and heroes triumphing over evil. Life was far messier than that, and many stories and songs more accurately reflected its nature, if one only knew where to look. Together, they’d been writing their own song, until it had been cut short, half of the melody fading away before they’d completed the chorus.

When she’d finished speaking, the candle went out, smoke curling from the wick, barely visible in the darkened room. Sansa felt her heart slamming in her chest, and she trembled, staring at the wisps of smoke, waiting. Hoping.

The temperature dropped, turning frigid in seconds. She shivered, barely daring to hope, focus still on the candle.

“Please,” she begged, voice no more than a whisper.

The candle sparked, and the flame reappeared, flickering as she let out a startled breath. She’d barely had time to ponder whether it had been magic or merely her breaths stirring the embers on the wick back to life, when she saw it.

That smirk.

The one she loved so much.

Sansa stopped shivering, though she still felt so very cold. Slowly, slowly she raised her gaze, taking in the stubble dotting the skin above his upper lip, the grey green eyes alight with mischief, the grey temples marking his otherwise dark hair.

It was him. Petyr. Her Petyr.

She gazed at him in wonderment, watching his smirk grow as he watched her in turn. He wasn’t quite how she remembered him, his form holding less permanence than in life, but as she ran her gaze down the length of his body, he slowly solidified, gaining more color in his cheeks, more definition around the edges. When her eyes met his again, he leaned forward and gently blew out the candle, plunging them into darkness once more.

Sansa cried out, suddenly unable to see him, and worried that the darkness had taken him from her once more, but before she could do or say anything, she felt him pry the candle from her grip, and relaxed, safe in the knowledge that he had not left her. As her eyes adjusted to the dark once more, she saw him put the candle next to the tv before turning back to her. Unable to help herself, she scrambled to her feet, then wobbled and sat back down at the edge of the bed.

Petyr (was it really him?) chuckled and closed the distance between them, reaching for her hands and pulling her to her feet. His hands felt solid, and surprisingly warm in her grasp, and she clung to them, partly for stability, partly because it felt so good to touch him again, and partly because she was afraid that if she let go, he’d disappear.

“Is it really you?” she asked, afraid of the answer she might receive, and yet desperate to know. Tears were pricking at her eyelids but she fought to keep them at bay. She’d cried enough, and she wasn’t about to do so anymore, even if they were born from joy rather than from grief.

“Oh, sweetling,” he sighed, relief palpable, then released her hands and slipped his arms around her waist instead, pulling her in close for a hug.

Sansa fell into his embrace as easily as if they’d never been parted, and it felt like coming home again, so sweet and so incredibly, wonderfully right. She pressed so close to him that not a sliver of space could be found between them, burying her face in his neck as she hugged him tight, so tight. It was really him. He’d come back to her. As he’d always said he would.

She nuzzled her nose along his neck, breathing in his scent. She’d kept a few of his dress shirts, ones that hadn’t made it to the laundry yet, but after six months they smelled more like her than of him, because she often took to wearing them to bed. Now, having him back, it was almost intoxicating, even more so as she caught the scent of mint as well.

Petyr pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she smiled against his skin and raised her gaze to meet his, their noses brushing due to their close proximity. Sansa’s eyes darted down the bridge of her nose to his lips, then back up again, fluttering closed as his lips brushed against hers in a whisper of a kiss. A soft whimper traveled up her throat, a single plea, and then his mouth was hot against hers, his tongue coaxing her lips to part almost immediately.

She happily obliged, her tongue greedily tangling with his. Oh, how she had missed this. No one made her feel the way he did. He was always, unfailingly, the only one for her.

He felt so real, so tangible, as if he’d never parted from this world. From her. Sansa wasted no time in divesting him of his clothes, the ones he’d been wearing the night he’d died, though they were pristine, free from the blood and dirt that later soiled them. Petyr’s hands were similarly occupied, and soon they were both bare and tangled up in the sheets, tangled up in each other.

This was hardly the setting she would have wanted for their reunion, her romantic heart craving something far more worthy of such an occasion. A luxurious hotel room, with crisp white sheets, rose petals scattered across the blankets, champagne and strawberries. Or back at his home, his silky sheets sliding deliciously against her skin, the promise of debauchery in every other room he owned before the night’s end. At least she would have liked a cleaner room, and to have been wearing something less made for comfort and more towards allure.

But still, she cherished the moment regardless, the way one does when the company surpasses everything else. Every time Petyr’s lips made to leave hers, to travel to his favorite haunts (oh dear, that was unintentional, and for once such a reminder made her want to laugh rather than cry, though she did neither, too swept up in the feel of him, newly returned to her) along the curves of her body, she forced him to keep kissing her instead, never wanting their lips to part. Eventually he got the hint, using his hands instead to part her thighs, thumb circling her clit as he curled two long fingers inside of her.

It had been six months, six long months since she’d come, and he’d hardly done anything before she came undone, gasping against his mouth. Their mouths broke apart for only a moment, eyes locking with a silent promise, and then Sansa was reaching for his cock, positioning him at her entrance. The rhythm they built was easy at first, their bodies already so in tune with one another that they picked up where they’d left off six months ago, working flawlessly in tandem. But their separation soon built their movements into a passionate frenzy that stole away the breath from their lungs, sent their hearts drumming an ever increased tempo.

They’d been forced to stop kissing long ago, requiring more air for their oxygen starved lungs, though Petyr’s gaze never strayed from hers, boring straight into her very soul as it always seemed to do. Sansa kept repeating his name, over and over, and over again, and he was repeating hers, their names twining together in their own strangely beautiful harmony. When they reached oblivion, it was as one, a rarity in itself, even for them, just another of the day’s extraordinary miracles.

Though neither of them had yet caught their breaths, their mouths met hungrily once more, only moments after their release. Her limbs were still tangled up in his, their skin slick with sweat, and she craved every sensation, seeking out the evidence of his pounding heart, beneath his ribcage, and at his pulse points, proof that he was here and somehow, wonderfully, amazingly, astoundingly alive once more.

With time, the kisses lost their urgency, until they ceased completely, and they were simply staring at one another in wonder. Petyr was on his side, facing her, and she was mirroring him, her hand on his waist as his was on hers. They did not speak for a time, content with touch and sight alone, for the moment.

Sansa wondered idly if she could get pregnant from a ghost newly brought back, though she knew it hardly mattered. She still had that implant in her arm, left there in case she found herself at risk of unwanted attentions, or less likely, she found herself seeking another’s touch again. And anyway, she’d welcome a child from Petyr, if it were indeed possible.

She really still couldn’t believe this was happening. It still seemed a beautiful dream. A scenario straight from fairy tales, storybooks, and songs. She was terrified that she might wake up and discover it had all been a figment of her slumbering mind. If that were true, she knew she’d be irreparably broken.

Sansa hoped her own mind wouldn’t be so cruel to her.

Finally, Petyr broke the silence, his words soft and tinged with joy and disbelief. “I never thought…” He trailed off then tried again. “My love, I have never been apart from you, even in death. I chose to stay behind, to watch over you, always, even as it pained me to be so close and yet unable to talk to you, to touch you. You’ve done so well, sweetling.”

And here, the tears came, slipping unbidden down her cheeks. “You’ve been with me? All this time?”

His hand left her waist to cup her cheek instead, thumb wiping away the tears with a tenderness that only increased the flow. “Yes.”

Sansa sniffled, and he pulled her closer, cradling her against his chest. She stayed there, in his arms, enjoying the feeling of his skin against hers, the security and love his embrace instilled in her veins, only moving when his lips found her temple.

The night was lost to touch alone, no words spoken save for the three that mattered most, and the ones torn from their lips in moments of passion. Only when she noticed the sun rising through the threadbare curtains did they finally stir from bed, seeking hydration and sustenance.

They didn’t bother to get dressed, instead grabbing bottles of water she’d kept chilled in the fridge and snacks. Petyr noticed the York Peppermint Patties and chuckled, before grabbing a few for his breakfast. Rather than sit at the table, they simply climbed back into bed, eating for a few minutes in companionable silence before Sansa ventured to ask for an explanation. Of how he’d come back, and whether he would be staying.

Her heart had begged to know the answers from the moment he’d come back, but she’d been far too scared to ask for them.

“I am staying,” Petyr assured her. “At least until I reach eighty three, when I’ve been informed my time will officially be up.” He paused, then continued, steadily gauging her reaction as he spoke. “The candle. It wasn’t by chance that you found it. Even as I kept watch over you, I did what I could to come back. I made a bargain.”

“A bargain?” Sansa was suddenly wary, though she knew that whatever it was, it was a price she’d happily pay.

Petyr smirked at her. “Do not be frightened, sweetling. I traded my services for a chance at life again. I am to do the bidding of the Lord of the Underworld until my second dying day, and though it might be inconvenient at times, I think you’ll find out that Hades and I have a mutual agenda, overall.” His smirk grew and he leaned in and kissed her. “We’re going to create such glorious chaos, you and I. And if we succeed, we will be rewarded beyond our wildest dreams.”

“Truly?” She was skeptical, but only slightly. If anyone could strike a deal with the Devil himself and come out on top, it was Petyr.

“Truly,” he replied. “Are you with me, my love?”

“Always.”

And Sansa meant it. She’d follow Petyr anywhere, through anything. They’d been given a second chance to complete their song, and she’d happily take it, whatever the cost.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I know I said I’d never kill him off, but this so doesn’t count, because he comes back. So there :P lol (I’ll amend it to I’ll never permanently kill him off :D). 
> 
> Also, I’m bad at poetry and part of what took so long was the beginning of the poem because one line just never seemed right (still doesn’t, tbh and it bugs me. See if you can figure out which one lol).
> 
> I hope you liked it! I think this one is tied with Come, Steal My Heart, My Soul, My Body, as my favorite of this batch of one shots :). Keep a look out for my last promised prompt to come sometime this week, called Follow My Lead.


End file.
